


Pumpkin Spice

by Lunafeather



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fictober 2020, Fluff, Minor Angst, POV Alternating, Post Season 3, Soft!Rio, Unresolved Sexual Tension, short form
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunafeather/pseuds/Lunafeather
Summary: Autumn is here, and with it comes cool weather, pumpkin spice everything, and busy holidays. Boland Bubbles is close to opening; everything is coming together. Even Rio seems to be warming up to her again, but Beth still believes he'll kill her once she's no longer useful -- which makes his new intense attention baffling.An exploration of Beth and Rio's relationship post Season 3 through Fictober prompts.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 18
Kudos: 239





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see! I haven't been able to get these two out of my brain, which has only been made worse by the BTS stuff coming out. I'm so glad they're about to start filming!
> 
> This will be a collection of very short chapters using the Fictober 2020 prompts as jumping off points. I've given myself a goal of 500 words, but as you can see.... I'm not very good at writing less. Some chapters will be shorter, some longer. All of them will explore the natural romantic progression of Beth and Rio's relationship post Season 3 as Autumn comes to Detroit. Expect mostly fluff, a lot of UST, and some minor angst.

It’s late, past midnight maybe, bright burnt yellow street lights spilling through the tall, wide windows encasing the show floor, illuminating the spa and patio displays. Boland Bubbles still hasn’t quite opened, though the Grand Opening event is days away -- Beth has spent the last few weeks pouring over plans and numbers, fielding both Dean and Rio in an intricate game of keepaway. Dean’s been oblivious, of course, none the wiser to Rio’s meddling or involvement, beaming and pleased with all of their progress with the store. Beth’s done her best to humor him, even if it means letting him feel her up here or there, or leave sloppy kisses at the corner of her mouth. She’s luckily fended off his more serious physical advances, concocting exceedingly elaborate excuses for why they can’t be intimate.

She’d convinced him to go home early -- he’d been surprisingly more helpful than expected, but his specific talents only stretched so far before they became overbearing. Now it’s just her and Annie, who had given up on helping hours ago and had instead established herself in the rolling, spinning faux leather chair in the office.

Beth leans against the door frame as Annie tosses a cheeto in the air, bobbing her head in an attempt to catch it in her open mouth. It bounces off of her chin and rolls down the front of her shirt, leaving a smear of orange dust.

“Very classy.”

Annie ignores her, fishing the cheeto off of her cleavage and shoving it in her mouth. She looks up and chews obnoxiously in Beth’s direction.

Beth rolls her eyes. “How on earth are we related?”

“Well, when two people _really_ love each other, they --”

Knocking Annie’s feet off of the desk, Beth rounds the corner to bend to grab her purse from the bottom drawer. “Stop.”

“You make it too easy.”

“Nah, I dunno about that.”

Beth drops her purse and spins at the voice.

Of course, _of course_ , he shows up when Annie is here.

He’s leaning against the doorframe the same way she was just a moment ago, black beanie pulled low over his forehead, hands sliding into his pockets, one ankle crossing over the other. Beth blinks, her throat constricting, the memory of this same image etched deep inside her, inescapable. Even a similar smile turns the corner of his mouth up, amusement and consternation and muted rage tucked neatly into the smallest twitch of muscle. That same twinge of infuriating attraction in her belly tugs her own mouth into a hard line. She tries to reconfigure her expression into the cool distance that’s been harder and harder to hold onto lately.

His gleaming black eyes seem to read it all.

God, she hates him.

“What are you doing here?”

She doesn’t necessarily mean the bite that comes with the words, but who can blame her? With everything that’s happened between them, with this new set up, with her lack of control, she’s been floundering. None of it is helped by his dropping by without warning.

Rio tilts his chin up at the tone. “Somethin’ wrong with me checking on my business?”

“Nope, nope. Nothing wrong with that.”

Beth glances over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Annie’s quiet interjection. She’s sitting up straight, pressing her back into the chair and clinging to the arm rests. Her eyes flick to Beth then back to Rio.

When Beth turns back to him, he’s still staring intently at her, like he didn’t even hear Annie. His lashes sweep over sharp cheekbones.

“Was there anything specific you wanted to check on?” Beth asks.

His tongue pokes out before sweeping along his lower lip. His gaze moves to the desk covered with papers and envelopes, to the floor where Beth’s purse is, and then to her boots and up, up, up. Every hair on her body stands on end, the back of her neck tingling.

He catches her eye again. “Nah, nothin’ specific. Just checkin’ on the whole package.” He finally looks at Annie, if only for a brief second. “Didn’t expect your girls to be here.”

“It’s just Annie.”

Annie balks behind her.

Rio’s smirk grows.

“Everything here is fine. The grand opening should go off without a hitch. The books are ready, so is the inventory.”

“Husband still leashed like a good boy?”

Beth inhales sharply through her nose, lets it out slowly, mentally smooths the hackles that leapt to attention at _his_ tone. Rio doesn’t blink, waiting for her to let her control slip even the tiniest amount.

She refuses to blink either.

His head tilts, almost imperceptible.

“I have Dean under control. His attention is on the sales aspect and our team.”

“For now.”

Beth can feel the muscle in her jaw twitch.

“You don’t trust me?”

It’s bait even Rio can’t ignore. He guffaws, tipping his head back so that the bird on his throat flutters as his vocal chords contract. Beth hates that she knows what those wings taste like, that she catches herself longing for them against her teeth when she’s had a bit too much wine.

“Oh, baby, you got no idea.”

His eyes are sparkling now. With mischief, with amusement, with something almost like fondness. Beth swallows. Rio watches the movement, smile fading.

“I’ll check in with you tomorrow, yeah?”

He holds her gaze a moment longer, and it’s intense, like he’s saying so much with just his eyes, but she doesn’t understand a word of it. That frustration builds again behind her rib cage. Seemingly satisfied, he leaves, nodding to himself. Beth watches him go, the gears spinning in her head, trying to puzzle him out.

“Ohhh no, come back…” Annie calls softly, faux forlornly. Beth turns to give her a look, to which Annie shrugs defensively. “Humor, even if sarcasm is the cheapest kind, is my only coping mechanism when it comes to a violent gang leader you boned and then failed to kill. Oh, and who apparently considered it part of some bizarre mating ritual that he now has to reciprocate by being creepy and murder-y.”

“That is not what is going on.”

“Oh? Oh-ho? Oh really?”

Beth bends to grab her purse again. “Yes, really. He’s just mad about everything and trying to punish us.”

“Punish _you_.”

“Whatever.”

“ _Whatever?_ The way he just, like, devoured you with his eyes was not _whatever_ , Beth.”

Beth sighs and motions for Annie to follow her out of the office. She’s too tired to have this conversation. Again.

“Annie, c’mon.”

“How’s the hitman thing going, Beth, huh? Heard from him lately?”

“Can you please just stop?” Beth whirls around so fast that Annie almost crashes into her. “There’s already so much going on with Boland Bubbles launching, with handling Dean, with keeping Rio happy so he doesn’t kill us, with printing, I don’t have the time or the energy to track Fitzpatrick down! It’ll happen, okay? I’ll look into it once all of this is in motion, but right now I can’t, okay, Annie? I just _can’t_.”

Annie stares back, eyes wide, eyebrows pinched together.

“Okay, Beth. Okay.” She licks her lips. “I’m sorry. I worry, you know? Rio is… a lot.”

Beth huffs out a laugh. “No kidding.”

“I promise I’ll help out for real tomorrow.”

Shaking her head, Beth starts leading them out through the showroom. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Um, wow. Rude.”

This time when Beth laughs, it’s bright and full.


	2. Two

He's in his element, somehow using long limbs and doofy smile to his advantage, and maybe if Rio didn't know any better he'd see a competent man in front of him. The young woman standing beside him tucks her hair behind her ear, shyly responding to whatever Dean has said, and he goes slack jawed for just a second, like his brain is whirring furiously.

Okay, maybe not a competent man.

How the fuck had Elizabeth gotten knocked up _four times_ by this embarrassment?

Dean hasn't seen him yet -- he's too engrossed by the woman he's speaking to. She's in her mid 20s at the oldest, petite with compact curves and bouncy brown curls, her Boland Bubbles polo clinging a little too tightly like it’s a size too small. She laughs lightly when Dean grins and makes what Rio assumes is a joke, his face turning splotchy in the bright September sunlight. He waves the clipboard in his hand towards the chalkboard stand they’ve just set up outside the front doors.

Rio steps away from where he was lounging against his driver’s side door to wander closer into ear shot in time to hear Dean say enthusiastically, “Now, that’s the easy part, right? Getting their attention and luring them inside, now you have to really turn on that charm, pay special attention to their little tells so you can lead them towards the right product and clinch the sale.”

“How do you do that? Learn their tells?” the young woman asks.

“Okay, so you just gotta really _hone_ in, right? You have to put all your focus on them, but you also have to know as much as you can about what we offer…”

Rio loses the conversation as the pair moves back inside the showroom. He’s about to follow when there’s a hiss at his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?”

He turns to Elizabeth and quirks an eyebrow. The tone reminds him of a few weeks ago, when he had dropped by to check in on his new business venture and her progress with it.

_Dean sat at the desk in the office, single lamp illuminating him from below, throwing all his bags and wrinkles into stark relief. His brows furrowed as he read something in front of him and a tinny_ clink, clink, clink _rang out into the silence as he tapped his metal barreled fountain pen against the binder rings._

_A delicious, self satisfied smirk spread across Rio’s face. He was in the mood for some fun, and what better way than fucking with Elizabeth’s dipshit husband?_

_But before he could move further into the showroom towards the office door, a small warm hand curled around his bicep and yanked him unceremoniously back out the front doors to the parking lot, into the shadows of the rapidly descending evening. Elizabeth didn’t seem immediately aware of what she was doing or how close they were or that they were touching -- he’d initiated contact a few times in the past few weeks, mostly to rile her up and throw her off her game, but she’d been extremely careful about keeping her distance._

_She crowded him against the wall, worriedly checking over her shoulder to make sure they hadn’t been seen._

_“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, meeting his eye._

_Rio hesitated, just for a second, hit with a strong wave of her perfume and lotion and that just-her-scent. Her fingers clutched him through his jacket sleeve, insistent, determined. He caught himself biting at his lower lip a tad too late, late enough that Elizabeth’s eyes darted down to the motion and a vivid blush spread across her cheeks and nose. She let go of his arm and stepped back. Rio shoved that teeming, antsy feeling back down._

_“You can’t be here,” she continued, not giving him a chance to answer. “There’s too much going on right now and you’ll just make this whole thing a lot harder than it already is.”_

_He frowned at her. “What you talkin’ about?” He was a little affronted by the accusation, even if it may have been true._

_She glanced back at the door again, shifting from foot to foot like she didn’t mean to speak so plainly._

_“I was just gonna have a chat with our new front man, sweetheart. Get a feel for his headspace.”_

_“Yeah, that’s the problem,” she muttered._

_“You got a problem with me talkin’ to your dumbass husband? You’re the one who insisted he be the face of this operation, remember? And considerin’ I’m funding this whole thing, I think maybe I should make sure everyone is on the same page, yeah?”_

_Elizabeth looked stonily back at him, tight lipped and emotionless. Still, that fire behind those blue, blue eyes…_

_Something clicked._

_“Ahhhhh.” He tipped his head back to look down his nose at her. “Unless he don’t know I’m your benefactor.”_

_He watched her struggle to swallow a lie down, the words so close to bursting free. Watched her blink slowly at him, set her shoulders, tilt her chin up defiantly. Rio stepped into her space so that their chests brushed. He could feel her breathing hitch._

_“You ever tell the truth in your life, ma?” He didn’t mean for it to come out bitter as hell, but, well, there it was. “Not an earnest bone in your body, huh?”_

_Elizabeth opened her mouth, but it took a long, heavy moment for the words to form. “That’s… that’s not it at all.”_

_“Nah?”_

_“No.” Firm. Still defiant._

_He wished he could believe her. He laughed, humorlessly, the sound fading as his eyes caught on her mouth, open in protest and sending puffs of air against his throat. He swallowed -- her own eyes dropped to watch the movement._

_They were too fucking close. His self control had been razor thin lately -- he’d been fighting an intense push and pull ever since she spewed that pregnancy bullshit, a strange and familiar affection and warmth warring with the violent, decaying hatred that had taken root in his belly, like ooze crawling through his veins._

_Lung._

_Spleen._

_Shoulder._

_A prayer, now, to remind him of what she’d done._

_The jagged edges of his anger were dulling much too quickly for his liking._

_This woman was poison -- and yet he’d survived it, yeah? Built up an immunity, learned to absorb it and tolerate it, maybe even enjoy the bite on occasion._

_What the fuck was wrong with him?_

_When he met her gaze again, she seemed just as caught as he was._

_He stepped back, trying to ignore the way she swayed forward as if to follow._

_"Look, I ain't here to play this 20-ways-to-spice-up-your-marriage bullshit you got yourself into, so you better have a good ass reason for acting like my money didn't buy you this opportunity."_

_Something that looked suspiciously like 'that's none of your business' contorted her features, but she wisely held it back and crossed her arms instead._

_"I knew he wouldn't do it if you were involved. He wanted to do it 'legitimately'. I don't know what he'd do if he found out you were a part of this, let alone that you basically paid for it, but I do know it would be bad. I can't lose my kids again."_

_"I thought you said any idiot could sell_ spas _."_

_She shrugged, ignoring the little jab. "I did, and I meant it._ This _idiot had access to a store and got himself into a situation that was beneficial to our goals." She looked away, over his shoulder, like she was contemplating something. "He still doesn't know how we got the money. He thinks the bank gave us hundreds of thousands of dollars despite my lack of credit history and his terrible one." When she looked at him again, amusement danced in her eyes. "Sometimes I wish I was that oblivious."_

_The corner of his mouth curled up despite himself. "Nah, you're way more interesting than that. You like this shit too much."_

_Elizabeth grinned. "You're not wrong."_

_Rio barked out a laugh. "You ain't physically capable of just saying I'm right, huh?"_

_"Where's the fun in that?"_

_Fuck, he could get lost in bright mirth of her blue eyes, especially when it was paired with that fucking adorable little fang she had that liked to poke out._

_Elizabeth seemed to sense the shift in energy, and shook her head. "Dean is an unfortunately necessary piece in this puzzle. He sells the act better than I could, for now at least. And he's good at this. Maybe once everything is in motion, and we're printing and washing consistently… maybe…" Her attention drifted._

_"Maybe."_

_Her eyes snapped to his. That one word was loaded with so much history, so much promise, so much emotion -- good and bad. He wasn't even sure what he was saying with it or why he was even saying it at all, but he knew he was saying a lot._

_She knew, too._

_Elizabeth swallowed. "Maybe." She cleared her throat. "Either way, right now, he can't know you're involved. So, please… leave him alone.”_

_Rio rolled his eyes, but his smile was cheeky. “Where’s the fun in that?”_

He had toed the line of obeying her wishes ever since, making it crystal clear that he was unhappy with the arrangement. She grit her teeth and tolerated it -- he didn't give her much choice. He looks at her now and squares his shoulders, ready for a fight.

"I thought we had an agreement."

"I told you I'd be by today."

She glowers at him. "I assumed you meant later this evening, when I'll be alone."

"You wanted me to come by when you were alone?"

He licks his lips and smirks when she just stares at him, face impassive. She takes a sip of the Starbucks cup in her hand, watching him over the lid.

"That some of that pumpkin spice shit?"

Elizabeth arches an eyebrow. "Let me guess, pumpkin spice goes against everything you believe in."

"That what you think?"

"Mmhmm. You seem the type to think they're too cool for the holidays."

He pressed his palm over his heart. "Aww, you think I'm cool, ma?"

"You know what I meant."

He hums, non-committal.

Silence falls between them -- Elizabeth gets self conscious and looks away after only a few seconds, but he keeps watching her, taking in the luscious strawberry blonde curls framing her face, the thick, sensible charcoal grey Fall coat hiding her shape, the freckles dappling her nose and cheeks -- no doubt leftover from the warm, sunny Detroit summer.

"Seriously, though, why are you here?"

Always trying to get rid of him…

"Wanted to check out the store during the day, see what the foot traffic is like in the area, see what the displays look like all lit up. Also wanted to get a feel for the staff you bringin' in."

Elizabeth's expression turns cold suddenly, and she looks back towards the front doors to the showroom. "Dean insisted on helping with the hiring process. I admit I don't know what to look for, but…"

Rio follows her gaze, gets the feeling she's honed in on the timid young woman who's captured Dean's attention.

"You got good instincts, though. And you know how to sell shit."

She spins back toward him, stunned, like he's never complimented her before. "I guess."

He scoffs, lips pulling into a frustrated snarl. "Nah, don't do that. Just cause your husband is a blind motherfucker don't mean you ain’t got skills."

"I…" Her eyes are wide, flicking quickly over his face, unsure where to focus and looking for any sign that he's bullshitting her. "Part of keeping him out of the way is him thinking he's the one in control. He has to think he's the only one who knows how to do this. I can't… I can't assert myself or it'll drive him off."

Rio nods, rocking his jaw from side to side. "Sounds like I'm not the first person you should be talkin' to about this being yours."

"Now's not the time…"

He steps past her, cupping her shoulder in his palm and squeezing. "Better boss up when it is."

He stalks to his G-Wagon and climbs in, refusing to look back at her as he pulls out of the parking lot.

He can't wait to watch her obliterate Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "that's the easy part"
> 
> This ended up way softer and way longer than I intended (lol that's what she said), but shit happens. I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Three

Tents and folding tables form a perimeter along the inside edge of the parking lot at Boland Bubbles, the tables laden with drinks (alcoholic and non) and snacks of all kinds -- cupcakes, cookies, crudités, tiny sandwiches, piles of fruit. It's not quite October yet, but she went all out with an Autumn theme; pumpkins of every shape, size, and color adorn each table and crowd around tent legs and balloon sculptures, perch on hot tub edges and grill lids. Garlands and wreaths of red, orange, and yellow leaves curl around platters of food and hang from doors and windows.

Beth flits between each tent, smiling brightly at each potential customer and engaging in pleasant small talk, hyping up the store as much as she can -- and mentioning Paper Porcupine at every sensible opening.

About an hour into the event, she's posted at the desserts table by the lot entrance, waving passersby down, luring them with offers of good food and a fun atmosphere -- and alcohol if they seem like they need it. Her husband wanders over after she shows a lovely older woman and her wife to the sandwich table.

"So who did you contract to set this up?" Dean asks.

Beth side eyes him, startled by the question. "I didn't contract anyone."

"Huh? Then who put all of this together?"

She stares at him. "I did."

"You did this?"

"Yes, Dean. I did this. I've been planning parties and events for years."

"Well, yeah, but those were, like… kids' birthday parties and PTA potlucks," he says, laughing.

Beth settles icy eyes on him, but otherwise her expression and voice are all saccharine sweetness. "Well, like you said, Dean, we all have things we're good at. All of those kids birthday parties and PTA potlucks were practice for this." She widens her eyes, pouting just a little. "Don't you like it?"

"Of course I like it, Bethie. I was just surprised is all. You did great."

"I'm trying to help out as much as I can, you know? I know you've got the business side of things covered."

Dean straightens, preening. "I do! But stuff like this definitely helps."

"Okay, good. Just making sure."

He grins at her, leaning down to kiss her on the mouth, but she turns at the last second, forcing a giggle.

"Dean, you'll mess up my lipstick."

"Oh… yeah! Sorry."

She ignores his wounded puppy look and pats his arm. "I'm gonna check on the drinks, okay?"

"Okay. Let me know if you need help!"

But she's already walking away.

The drinks are fine; the grand reopening hasn't been going that long yet, though the showroom and parking lot are starting to fill up with a throng of people curious about the new store. She doesn't care, though; anything to get out of Dean's clinging hands and away from his expectant lips.

"Damn, ma, you really know how to crank a party out, huh?"

She jumps, pressing her hand to her thumping heart. "Jesus, do you ever announce yourself?"

Rio frowns. "I just did."

Beth waves that off. He knows what she means, he just loves messing with her and it drives her insane.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

"I feel like you ask me that a lot."

"Maybe because you show up places you aren't supposed to be a lot."

He opens his mouth to respond but pauses, dark eyes scanning her face, reading the lines at the corners of her eyes like lines of text in a book. "Somethin' happen?"

Beth squints at him, alarmed. How does he do that? "I… why do you ask?"

"Cause you got that look."

"What look?"

He glowers at her. "This look."

"I don't -- that is not --" she stutters.

"Nah, you right. You put a few layers of indifference on top of it so it ain't as obvious, but I can still see it."

It's a strange and disturbing feeling to be analyzed so starkly and read so accurately, especially when the person doing the reading is a man she has such a complicated and fractured relationship with.

To be fair, she's gotten relatively good at reading him, too, but still…

It's unnerving.

She's not sure why, but she says softly, "It's just Dean being… Dean. All he sees me as is a reckless housewife whose only skills are child rearing and husband minding. I don't think he really believes I've done anything else due to skill -- it's all been dumb luck. And maybe my looks."

Beth feels naive as hell showing him this vulnerability, regrets it the second the words are out of her mouth, but he doesn't say anything right away, doesn't make any scathing remarks, doesn't remind her that a lot of it _has_ been dumb luck, doesn't tear her down further. It's the only reason she swallows the words bubbling up in her throat, smothers that urge to make excuses, to change the subject, to deflect.

"Your looks definitely help," he jokes, just as softly.

Beth laughs a little and tucks a curl behind her ear. Rio raptly follows the movement before biting his lip, but somehow she can tell the action isn't the start of one of his witty barbs -- or a loaded sexual comment-- it's more thoughtful.

"Dean ain't worth shit, and neither is his opinion. If he can't see all those layers you got? That's his loss. Gotta let that shit roll right off your shoulders, mama."

Beth sighs. "I know, but it's still--"

"Annoyin' as fuck?"

She smirks and nods.

"Yeah, I feel you on that." He moved to stand beside her, and they both look out over the small crowd. "If it makes you feel any better, that was a damn good show you put on."

"You saw that?"

Rio grins. "Sure as shit. Especially liked that bob and weave when he went in for the kiss." He lightly mimics the boxing move, gently knocking her shoulder with his, and his eyes are dancing, framed by those god awfully long and gorgeous lashes. She's struck suddenly with the desire to nip at his chin where it sits below his curling lips, hiding under an ever thicker beard.

She takes a breath and ignores the urge. "It's becoming my specialty."

"I can see that."

"I should probably get back to schmoozing," she say reluctantly. Not that she would rather be standing here talking to him, of course, even though the conversation is as light as it's been in months -- she definitely just doesn't want to be cornered by Dean again.

Rio glances at her, shoves his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, break time's over. Gotta go make my money."

That earns an eye roll, which just makes him chuckle.

She tries not to notice that he watches her go, tries not to notice his gaze lingers on her for a while after, tries not to notice that he leaves without causing any trouble.

It's all she can think about for the rest of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You did this?
> 
> Hooooo boy, 2 chapters uploaded in a span of 6 hours?! That's witchcraft!


End file.
